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Celeste Clarence-Veloria was born The Honourable Celeste Spencer in Mayfair, London on the 11th June 1987 (age 24) the only child of Charles Spencer, 1st Baron Eliot, a British peer and art collector, and Constance Spencer (nee Brille) a philanthropist and former fashion model. Her early life was spent at the families ancestral home in Hampshire where she grew up with the best money could buy.

An inquisitive toddler, her parents soon grew tired of her erratic behavior, sick of her always exploring the house grounds and getting into places she shouldn’t. They couldn’t wait till she grew up so her parents could go on with their own lives, her mother a famed society hostess, and her father an introverted art collector who rarely left the Hampshire home.

By the time she was 11 she had developed an unnatural curiosity for the arts, sneaking into her fathers private gallery and devouring everything she could. She was also fascinated by the eccentric characters her mother entertained at her parties, and set her mind on entering a world that combined the two. At 13 she was shipped off to L’Evier, a hideously expensive all girls private boarding school in the Swiss mountains, where she was quickly introduced to the world of boys, drugs, and alcohol by some of her more rebellious classmates. She graduated at 16 with an impeccable record, despite her penchant for debauchery she never failed a class while at school, partly due to her superior intellect and partly due to the sexual favours she bestowed on several of her professors. On her 17th birthday her mother informed her she was to be married to George Nassau Clarence-Cowper, 3rd Earl Cowper, which she fought vehemently, but eventually gave up once she saw the lifestyle she would be given. For three years Lady Celeste Clarence-Cowper and her new husband lived a relatively happy life. The young Earl, much like Celeste’s father, was a very introverted, shy man, which infuriated Celeste to no end. She had desires for grand balls and extravagant galas, which her husband would never allow her to host. She entertained herself by taking a series of lovers to distract from her husbands paltry love making abilities, moving from the poolboy to the footman to the gardener. While she may have took lovers she was prepared to try and make the marriage work, inside of her was a small spark of respect for the institution of marriage, and she didn’t want to give up on it.

The final straw came when Celeste returned home early to the London townhouse from a trip to China to find her husband on all fours being roughly serviced by the butler. She was no prude, but there was such a thing as decorum. She fled to Paris to ride out the scandal after the rumours began to spread around the London social scene. Buying a magnificent mansion on the Avenue Foch with the money from her divorce settlement she finally set about using her art knowledge. She had a knack for finding an unknown artist, usually a male but she was not adverse to female company, ensnaring them with her sexuality and sending their prices flying through the roof with the glamour of the celebrity she had learnt from her mother. Soon the artists pieces would be selling for hundreds of thousands of dollars, and she became the central player of the European art world, jet setting across the continent in search of exciting, attractive artists.

While she had no desire to ever see her ex-husband again, she retained the title and kept on using his name, soon learning that being a Lady, and one from the Clarence-Cowper family, got her anything she wanted. For a year her collection continued to grow, and the collection of artists who owed their careers to Celeste became bigger and bigger. She went through men fast. Most of them bored her after she had sampled their bodies. She needed more than sex, she needed an added thrill, which she found when she met Italian business tycoon (or at least that’s what he said he was) Roberto Veloria at a party she was hosting at the Jardin des Plantes in Paris, a man of forty-five with charm, smooth lines, a reputation as a womanizer, and a great wardrobe. He courted her through the discotheques of Europe and married her on her twenty first birthday in the grounds of her parents Hampshire house.

They stayed together a year. She endured a still born child while he spent as much of her money as he could. His indiscretions hit the newspapers and magazines once to often. Celeste was furious to discover he had been dancing the night away while she was screaming the night away delivering their still born child. She settled two Ferraris and three million euros on her second mistake. He never had time to enjoy it, three months after the divorce he stepped out of a car in Paris and was blown to pieces by a terrorist bomb. Celeste had no time to mourn, she was too busy clamoring her way up the social scene in New York. Both of the names she had married were recognized world wide, so she restyled herself The Hon. Celeste Clarence-Veloria, quickly moving to the top of the American social world, establishing herself as one of the best dressed women in America as well as an unmatched hostess and fantastic patron of the arts. Frequently on the cover of Womens Wear Daily she was soon a favorite target of the American paparazzi. Immersing herself in American culture she soon found that one name stood out above all the others – Belgravia. Redirecting her focus to the city of Redcliffe she settled down in a Colonial mansion in the hills of the city and set about getting what she wanted, a Belgravia.